


steal some covers share some skin

by orphan_account



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: A lot of kissing, F/M, Incest, Please don't judge me, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 07:23:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4010953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Do you want some hot twin makeouts, hold the angst? You've come to the right place! It's morning on Dipper and Mabel's twentieth birthday, and they're in an established relationship. Fluff without plot, baby. Set in the context of one of my AUs, but no knowledge of it is required to understand this!</p>
            </blockquote>





	steal some covers share some skin

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by Maroon 5's "Sunday Morning".

Golden sunlight soaked through gauzy pink curtains, throwing the bedroom into shades of goldenrod and rose. The whole room was illuminated by the gentle glow soaking through the curtains. Makeup and half-finished card games lay scattered across low tables, and mismatched beanbags slumped into each other on the floor. The occupants of the room noticed none of these things, as both were mostly asleep. Dipper was flopped on top of the covers, slightly snoring. Mabel was curled up against his side, facing away from him but still clutching one of his arms like a life preserver. She shut her eyes more tightly as the morning light tried to tease its way into her sight.  
"Can somebody turn off the sun please?" mumbled Mabel, rolling over to hide from the sun in Dipper's shirt. She pulled Dipper's arm over with her, and he drowsily tugged her closer.   
The twins were framed by the vibrant orange covers, baggy shirts and shorts dull in comparison. Mabel yawned slightly, exhaling in a warm puff of air that Dipper could feel through his shirt. She cut her yawn short with a sharp gasp, and sat upright in bed.   
"We're twenty!" she squealed, shaking Dipper's shoulders roughly and bouncing in place. "It's our birthday!"  
"Happy birthday," Dipper grumbled, pushing himself up off the bed with one hand. "Can we go back to sleep now?" He took Mabel's hands in his other hand, stopping her from shaking him and pulling her back down against him. Mabel lay back down, but did not go back to sleep.   
She lay on her stomach and a little bit on the bed, but mostly on Dipper. Her head was propped up on her arms, and long hair fell across her face and cascaded over her back. "C'mon bro-bro, dontcha want to go see what presents the girls got us?" she whispered, poking his cheek with a sharp purple fingernail. When no response came, she continued with a giggle. "Well, or you could be my present this year."  
Dipper slitted his eyes open to glare balefully at Mabel. "I thought you promised to never quote that commercial ever again. Also, stop poking me please." Mabel collapsed onto Dipper with a heavy sigh.   
"Maybe," Mabel began after just a few seconds of silence. "Just maybe. I would go to sleep more easily if I could have a good night kiss." She grinned up at her brother, teeth straight from years of braces framed by lips chapped a pale pink. "Well, actually," she said before he could tell her it was definitely not night. "I think you need a good night kiss, because you're super grouchy! In fact," her voice lowered, and brown eyes flickered toward his lips, "you might need several." Mabel scooted forward to press a kiss to his collarbone, bared by the loose shirt, and suddenly Dipper had no breath to tell her anything. She smiled, and he could feel her dimples against his skin.   
"Mabel-" he tried to say, but the feeling of soft lips trailing up his neck choked off anything he may have been about to blurt out. When she paused for a moment, she didn't move away and every breath was hot against his neck. One last kiss brushed against his throat before she glanced up to his face. Their eyes met for a single moment before Dipper wound a hand into Mabel's hair and pulled her down into a deep kiss. He pushed himself up with the other hand, flush against Mabel already but still wanting to be closer.  
Mabel's hands were hot against his skin, but her lips were even hotter. Friction built up between them, until Mabel had to pull away and catch her breath. Her lips were sinfully reddened and the way she was slightly panting just drew more attention to them. It wasn't only her lips that were brighter than usual-her cheeks were also flushed pink, and it spilled over and onto her collarbone in a stark contrast to her pale skin. Without thinking, Dipper traced a hand along the edge of the blush, stopping when he reached the collar of her sweater.   
"How can you even wear this?" he asked, tugging at the fabric gently. "I'm dying of the heat and I'm in a t-shirt." He grinned up at his sister, for once totally confident in his actions.   
"I have no idea," she murmured, paying more attention to the way he was slowly teasing her sweater off of her shoulder than anything he was actually saying. The smooth expanse of Mabel's exposed skin proved to be too much of a temptation for Dipper, and he stopped working off her sweater in favor of kissing along her shoulder and neck. He started out chastely enough, his lips barely touching her skin, but as he crept upward his kisses became more and more enthusiastic. When he nipped at her neck, Mabel shivered, tipping her head back to give him easier access. "Dang," she breathed, "when-oh!-when did you get so good at this?" She sucked in a sharp gasp as he slipped a hand under her sweater hem.  
Dipper paused for a moment, just a hairsbreadth from Mabel. "You're up for this right now, right?"   
"Heck yes!" Mabel wrapped both arms around Dipper, rolling onto her back and pulling him on top of her. "Rock me-"  
"That had better not have been a boy band reference," he said, leaning away from Mabel, who decided that she would take this moment to rid herself of her sweater. Or try to, anyway.   
"Pft, don't worry, you're the only boy whose band I want!" Her voice was slightly muffled as she tried to pull off the sweater without sitting up from of the bed.   
"That doesn't even make sense!" Dipper said, reaching forward to help her divest herself of the remaining fabric. Mabel threw it off the side of the bed, where it would join the rest of the glittery mess. And suddenly, it was just Mabel, in a thin white tank top over a worn pink bra, and baggy shorts that actually belonged to him. And it was just him, sitting straddling her hips like they were only seventeen again.   
The silence was shattered when Mabel giggled, all faux innocence beneath him. He could feel the way the muscles in her stomach tensed as she laughed. "You do know that I've heard you hit way higher notes," she pointed out, and Dipper flushed scarlet.  
"Shut up," he muttered.  
"Make me," she whispered, and he did.


End file.
